


The Warmth in the Snow

by LadyVean



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Deep Dish Nine, M/M, Post-Infatuation, Pre-Relationship, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:53:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3458012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVean/pseuds/LadyVean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Valentine's Day and Garak hates the cold. Can Julian improve his mood?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Warmth in the Snow

**Author's Note:**

> A belated piece of Valentine's Day fluffiness. I'm not big on the holiday, personally, but this idea just popped into my head, so I figured 'why not?' Sorry for the lateness, but my computer has been periodically breaking down, severely hindering my progress in fandom (I'm sure I also owe some of you reviews!). 
> 
> So, this was inspired by all the amazing Deep Dish Nine stories out there, particularly the serial works of [Tinsnip](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tinsnip/profile/) and [LadyYateXel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyYateXel/pseuds/LadyYateXel/) . However, in my version of Deep Dish Nine, Julian is doing his residency at a local out-patient clinic. 
> 
> This is unbeta-ed. If anyone would like to beta-read for me in the future, I would be delighted! Please leave any constructive criticism, particularly if there are any glaring errors I have overlooked, in the comment section.
> 
> Thanks! And enjoy!

Garak glanced up from the pants he was hemming with a sigh. He had never particularly cared for winter in Cardassia, but compared to the cold and near constant snow of Alpha City, it was positively balmy. The cold in the city was almost insidious. It crept into his bones, making his body ache, impossible to get truly warm. He flexed his fingers in a feeble attempt to draw blood to his icy digits and glared at the soft, white flakes falling in gentle swirls outside of his shop. A happy couple trudged by, seemingly oblivious to the hateful weather. He watched as the man whispered something in the young woman’s ear, her laugh rising as a fine mist in the crisp winter air. Garak scowled and turned back to his work.

A steady increase in special orders had poured into his shop over the past weeks – gowns to be taken in, suits to be let out, and of course, several custom orders for delicately designed lingerie – but the orders had tapered off as Valentine’s Day approached and nearly all had been picked up yesterday afternoon. Only two or three forgotten parcels, which Garak had chosen to specially wrap in a fine red, satin ribbon, were left stacked behind the counter. No customers had stopped by the shop all morning.

_Valentine’s Day._ Garak sighed again. This particular day had always passed without much thought for him – a diversion in which he had never really had reason to indulge; a harmless, if somewhat vapid holiday for happy couples . But this year… Well, this year Garak felt the loneliness more acutely. He missed Julian.

_Not that I have any right to expect anything from the poor boy,_ he mused. They had scarcely been out more than once a week, and usually for something as relatively harmless as lunch. They flirted, yes, and they teased; Garak had even brushed his thumb across Julian’s hand once. He flattered himself to think that the young man’s blush had had nothing to do with embarrassment. 

Despite the dull ache he felt every time he saw the handsome youth, however, he had to take care and not push Julian for too much too soon. While having coffee last Saturday afternoon, they had both danced around the up-coming romantic holiday, neither mentioning it directly. Casually, Garak had asked if he’d like to join him for a viewing of the film adaptation of _Meditations on a Crimson Shadow_ at the old Cardassian cinema on the 14th, pointedly ignoring the fact that it would be Valentine’s Day. Julian had flushed and looked down, mumbling something into his coffee about picking up an extra shift for Sarish at the clinic. Garak had let the matter drop. 

_Sentiment, Elim,_ he inwardly chastised himself. _Sentiment is the death of duty._ His dedication to duty, service, and professionalism had always been a source of great pride for him, but even as he thought them, the words felt hollow.  


The bell of his shop door tinkled merrily, and he was jolted from his melancholy reverie by a familiar, cheery – and completely unexpected – voice. 

“Hello, Garak!”

Julian flashed his dazzling smile, his cheeks and nose ruddy from the cold. He stamped his sneaker clad feet on the mat and brushed the snow from his shoulders. A smattering of snowflakes clung to his dark locks. Garak quirked an eyebrow appraisingly. The young man habitually underdressed for winter weather, and today’s hooded sweatshirt pulled on over teal scrubs was no exception. _At least he had the sense to wear a scarf._

“Julian, my dear! What a delightful surprise! I thought you were working an extended shift this afternoon.”

“I am,” Julian strolled to where Garak stood at the counter, slipping his canvas satchel from his shoulder and setting it between them, along with a steaming thermos, “and I can’t stay long; I’ve got to get to the clinic, but I wanted to bring you this.” He pulled a small package from his satchel and slid it across the counter to Garak.

Garak glanced suspiciously at the little box, wrapped simply in brown packing paper, then up at Julian’s expectant face. “What is it?”

“I suppose you’ll have to open it and find out.”

“Now?”

“If you like. You can wait til later if you prefer, but I had hoped to see your reaction.”

“Well, far be it for me to disappoint.” Garak slit the taped edge of the paper with a pair of small fabric scissors. _Those are supposed to be for work only, Elim - They’re useless if you dull them! You need to calm down._

Had Julian noticed his eagerness? He mastered his features into an impassive expression as he slipped the box from the paper. Emblazed in bold print across the packing label were a biohazard symbol and the words: **FEDLAB – PATHOLOGY DEPT, KEEP REFRIDGERATED.**

Garak looked up with a smirk. “You’ve brought me medical waste?”

Julian barked out a laugh. “That would be a _specimen,_ not waste. And it was the only box I had on hand!” His smile softened. “Open it.”

Again Garak put his scissors to improper use, sliding them through the taped-up seam of the box. Inside, nestled in a few sheets of plain, white tissue paper – 

“Delavian chocolates and Cardassian whiskey?” Garak’s voice was tender as he gently lifted the little bottle from the box. “Where on Earth did you get these?”

“Oh, I was just at the store and I saw them and I thought of you.”

Garak gave the boy a stern glare. “Julian. Cardassian imports haven’t exactly been easy to come by in recent years. You did not _‘just see them’_ at the store.” _And they certainly wouldn’t have been cheap._ Thinking of the silly young man spending such a sum of his meager income on luxuries for _him,_ Garak felt an uneasy twinge in stomach. It felt suspiciously like guilt. 

“Well,” and now it was Julian’s turn to smirk, “perhaps it was a little more complicated than that, but not much. Quark and his contacts do come in useful now and again…” He trailed off, his smirk turning into a full blown grin. “And here I thought you’d be grateful!”

“It was very considerate of you, my dear. Now allow me to return the favor. Such treasures are far too rare and precious to be enjoyed alone. Perhaps you would consent to join me one evening for a tasting?”

“I don’t know… If Cardassian whiskey is anything like kanar, it’s probably not to my taste.” Julian’s nose wrinkled at the mention of the potent Cardassian spirit. 

“Such closed-mindedness does not become you, Julian. Your palate is simply unschooled.” 

Julian leaned across the counter, his full, smiling lips enticingly close. “I suppose I’ll just have to let you teach me.”

Garak closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, indulging in Julian’s warm, lightly spiced scent. _Yes, he_ would _have Tarkalean tea in that thermos._ “It would be my pleasure.”

They remained still for a beat before Julian straightened, gathering his belongings. “Well, I really must be going, but I’ll let you know when I have some free time this week.”

“Of course,” Garak inclined his head in a slight nod. 

“And Garak – “ Julian paused as he reached the door. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” He winked once and was gone before Garak had a chance to respond.

He watched Julian’s retreating form from his shop window as the young man made his way down the road. Before long, he was out of sight and Garak was left to gaze at the empty street. The snow was falling heavier now, the sky a dark, angry gray. Garak, however, felt warmer than he had in a long time.


End file.
